


we are never ever ever (getting back together)

by havisham



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ficlet, Kisses, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kisses meme - Fingon/Maedhros, <i>we can never be together.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	we are never ever ever (getting back together)

It was one of those blurry hours of the morning when Fingon woke up and kissed Maedhros fiercely, without a word or a warning. Maedhros blinked, surprised, but pleased. He kissed him back, and luxuriated in feeling of resting here with Fingon, skin on skin.

The coronation, much delayed (delayed, in fact, until Maedhros could be there) had been held the day before and Fingon had spent all of the rest of time with his new subjects. Maedhros had held back, let Fingon have his day, and had spoken only once or twice.

He thought of himself as a tool of sorts, for Fingon, to help him however he could.

But. Of course, Maedhros knew the rumors, of how he regretted giving away his crown, and now he had schemed to get it back again. How he whispered suggestions into the new king’s ear, how he led Fingon in a merry chase.

As if any of that was true. Maedhros had never wished for the crown, had never expected for it to come to him, even when his grandfather died. And even when he was young, Fingon knew his own mind. He would never be swayed unless he wished to be swayed.

“Maitimo,” Fingon said, so close that Maedhros could not see his whole face – just a fringe of lash, and white cheek, and an eye so blue that it brought shame to the sky, to the sea.

(Somewhere, east of here, Maglor was laughing at his maimed attempt as poetry.)

“Yes,” Maedhros said, and reached for him.

But Fingon pushed him away off, gently. He seemed to be gathering himself up, to say something important. Maedhros watched, and felt misgivings rise up within him. He wanted Fingon to kiss him again. He wanted Fingon to forget what he was going to say.

But Fingon would not be put off.

He said, “Am I your king?”

“Of course. Have I not come here and kneeled before you? Have I not kissed your ring, sworn to honor you, to obey you?”

“You have done all that,” Fingon said with a faint smile. “But I cannot help but wonder… If I commanded you to bring me one of your father’s Silmarils, would you do it?”

Maedhros shook his head. “You know I cannot.”

“If I commanded you to forswear your Oath, would you do it?”

“You know I would not.”

“Then how am I your king?”

“Is this a test? Or – do not tell me you listen to those rumors, that you believe them when they say? Or have you found – that Cirdan has poisoned you against me –”

“No! I have listened to no rumors. And I have been thinking about this for a long time, even before my father died. And I have decided that if you wish to attack Doriath, I will not help you. I will not kill another person for you, Russandol. Not even you. Do you understand?”

“I understand perfectly, my lord,” Maedhros said, and he did. He understood and he agreed, but neither of those things held back his anger. He untangled himself from Fingon, and slid out bed. He did not look at Fingon when he dressed.

When he turned back to Fingon, he saw that his cousin had sat, perfectly still. He looked sad, but resolute. As Maedhros had expected. On impulse, Maedhros bent down and kissed Fingon, an ordinary sort of kiss – except for what had come before.

Fingon’s hands flew up, and he cradled Maedhros’ cheek for a moment.

When he pulled away, Maedhros said, in a low voice, “I wish I could submit to you, in everything. But I cannot.”

“I know,” Fingon said, and let him go.

*

The next morning, they met again in the meeting room, and Maedhros told his king a plan that he had long been thinking of, of attacking their enemy and of winning, and of laying the Oath finally to rest.


End file.
